


My Little Warrior

by Lycan_Lover_411



Category: True Blood (TV)
Genre: Ancient Rome, F/M, Gladiators, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycan_Lover_411/pseuds/Lycan_Lover_411
Summary: From the moment he laid eyes upon her...he wanted her. He knew she had to be his. His companion. His warrior. His lover.
Relationships: Godric/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	My Little Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first True Blood fic and it's Godric in his younger days (he's only a few vampire years old), which I wish they'd showed more of. I mean I love the calm, collected Godric, but I wanted to see more of his feral, vampire-y days. That was hot as hell ;)  
> My OC is portrayed by Willa Holland by the way. I always have to have an actress for my character or I find it hard to write. Helps me play out the scene in my head. Now, cause it's all Roman-y, I decided to use the language style from the Starz Spartacus series, (which I also adore). If there's anything you don't understand, don't be afraid to ask!  
> On with the story! :D

_Rome, 70bc._

The games of the Vulcanalia were taking place in the arena in Rome, a yearly event held to give tribute to Vulcan, the god of fire. Many gladiators and a single gladiatrix were preparing to fight. Fight for their house, for their honor, for their lives.

The day was long and tiring, but when night fell and the final match had arrived, twelve stood upon the sands. Seven from one house and five from another. The gladiatrix was among the twelve, part of the five from the House of Marcus Decimus Varrinius. The battle was brutal but in the end, the gladiatrix and three of her brothers stood victorious, soaked in blood and revelling in the roars of the Roman crowd. Of the thousands of people in the arena, none were aware of the boy crouched high on the wall of the magnificent structure that was the Colosseum. Tattoos of his tribe littered his unusually pale skin. Black hair, matted with dirt and blood framed his sharp grey eyes. But this was no normal boy. He was what the Romans called a child of Mors. A vampire. Poets would often write of _avidi dentibus;_ Eager teeth. Or _pallida mors;_ Pale death. And that is exactly what the boy was.

Death.

And death had his eyes on the gladiatrix. He was mesmerized. He'd never seen anyone fight like her. She fought with skill and ferocity beyond her meagre her size. _What a vampire she would make. Strong, fearless, twice as bloodthirsty as she already is,_ he thought, watching as she celebrated her victory with her brothers. It was a snap decision he made and before he could stop himself Godric had jumped from the wall and landed behind her. But the girl heard the thud along with the scuff of sand and swung round, confused when her sword sliced nothing but air. She was sure she'd heard someone behind her. A gladiator that had not been properly slain perhaps. There was a whoosh, then one of the men beside her began to cough and choke, blood spurting from the gaping wound in his throat as he fell to the ground. One of the others called out the fallen man's name, crouching down to check for life. His only reward was to be picked up and thrown across the arena so fast that it was barely possible to follow the movement. Then he too has his throat ripped open.

The crowd was silent. Many had seen the boy appear behind the gladiatrix, but then he was gone and suddenly two men were dead. They watched as the last man fell, leaving only the girl in the middle of the arena, her eyes darting around, desperately trying to catch sight of the mysterious being that was slaughtering her brothers. "Show yourself! Do you fear to face a woman?! Come and fight me!"

A cool breath tickles her neck as a voice whispered, "As you wish."

This time when she turned, Godric did not disappear, but stood a foot or two away and looked at the little human, head tilting to the side as he examined her. Thick, mahogany hair tied back with a strip of old cloth, though much of it had escaped and was soaked in blood, sticking to her face. Unusually bright green eyes ablaze with anger and her skin, oh her skin. It was almost as pale as his own. Pale and smooth and perfect...and beautiful. She wore nothing but a short skirt and a leather halter top, leaving little to the imagination. The girl in turn studied her adversary. Extremely pale skin, black hair, cold grey eyes following her every movement. Various tattoos marked his skin, one on each arm, another looped around his shoulders like a necklace. They reminded her of the markings she'd seen on members of her tribe...when she yet stood among them. What she could not take her eyes off, though, were the fangs protruding from his mouth and the blood staining his face. But she did not fear him. She was taught never to fear, both by her tribe and her Doctore, the man who had taught her the gladiatorial ways. Yet she knew not to remove her eyes from his form and kept her sword and shield raised lest he attack again. He had, after all, killed three of the gladiators from her ludus. Men she had considered great warriors. Among the greatest in Rome. "What gives you the right to come into _my_ arena and kill _my_ men?"

"Your arena?"

Her words had perplexed him and made him smile at the same time, his honeyed voice caressing her ears as he replied, "I was under the impression that this arena belonged to the Romans."

"Was it they who carried stone to construct it? Was it their lives taken while building it? Is it their blood spilled upon its sands? _No._ It is mine and my brothers. _We_ risk our lives for their amusement as they sit like children in the safety of the pulvinus. So how we see it, the arena is ours. To fight upon it's sands until we are called to the afterlife."

Her outburst caused the boy before her to laugh, "Bold words, little warrior, but I do not think your Dominus would like to hear you speak so. Romans prefer their slaves timid and obedient, absent an opinion of their own, do they not?"

"You speak from experience?"

Godric tensed immediately, eyes darkening as a low growl rumbled through his chest, images of his life as a slave replaying in his head. "My experiences with the Romans are of no concern to you. At least not yet. . . Now, I believe you wish to fight?"

She tightened her grip on her sword and shield, preparing herself for battle, "I wish to kill."

She lunged forward, aiming the sword for his heart, but in a flash he was gone and the next thing she knew she was knocked to the ground. The shock of the fall caused her to cry out and she spat out a mouthful of sand as she raised her head and looked around, her eyes locking onto the amused vampire who stood a few meters away. There was a smug smile on his bloodied face and that only served to further infuriate the girl who was glaring at him as she rose to her feet. Seething, she went for him again, only to be knocked to the ground once more. This process was repeated again and again until she cried out in frustration, both from the repeated falls and the laughter of her opponent. "This is how you fucking fight?! Using tricks and demon magic?!"

"I am no demon, little warrior. I am but a simple vampire. One who rather enjoys using tricks and magic."

She scoffed from her place on the ground, " _Vampires_. Such things do not exist. They are things of legend. _Myths."_

He was crouched in front of her before she could blink, so close that his nose was almost touching hers as he stared at her. "Then how do you explain the fangs that are within my mouth? The paleness of my skin? How cold it stands?"

Her breath catches as he ran his fingers from her temple down to her collarbone. His skin was indeed ice cold and it sent shivers down her spine. "W-witchcraft. What else could it be?"

With a smirk, Godric stood and turned away, "You believe in witchcraft yet not in vampires? A strange notion."

Her reply was to thrust her sword upwards and embed it in his side. Godric cried out, stumbling forward and falling to his knees and as the gladiatrix scrambled to her feet she thinks she has defeated him...Until he begins to laugh. He removes he sword from his side, with barely more than a wince and the girl could only watch in shock as the skin pulled itself back together and the wound healed before her eyes. It was as if it had never been there. "How...how did you...That is impossible!"

Godric shook his head as he stood up and tossed the sword to the ground, surprising himself at how calm he was. Any other who harmed him did not live long, yet, he found her attack almost...amusing. Yes, he was somewhat angry, but more at himself for not anticipating the move. _But how brave she is to stab a vampire. Admirable, I must say._ "No. Not impossible. Just one of the many benefits of being a vampire. . . Perhaps you would like to experience them for yourself?"

His gaze changed drastically. Where before his eyes held amusement, hunger and a touch of anger, they were now questioning, with a look of innocence that seemed out of place on his bloodstained face. They also held a certain amount of nervousness, as if he feared what her reply would be. Which, in a way, he did. He'd never made another vampire, only being relatively young himself, but he wanted this girl. He craved her. His question though, had confused her and he had to further explain. "Could you be a companion of death? Walk with him through the world?...Through the night?"

It finally dawned on her what he was asking. "You want me to accompany you?! As a...as a _monster?!_ A bloodthirsty killer?!"

Godric's eyebrows shot up, "Do you not already stand as such? At least when I kill it is to feed, or for protection, not for the amusement of Roman _scum!"_

He spat the last word as if it had burned him. The boy held no love for the Roman republic, having lived as a slave for many years under the rule of a most cruel and vile man. Then his Dominus had turned him. Made him vampire. And in return for the years of suffering, Godric had staked him. He'd set himself free, to choose whatever path he wished for his new life. "You could be free. Free from the bonds of slavery. Free to roam wherever you want. Free to kill _whomever_ you want. We could travel the lands for a long as we pleased. For eternity. For my kind do not die."

The gladiatrix' eyes widened at this, for one thing this girl treasured above all else was life. It was why she fought so fiercely in the arena. Since she had first been brought to Rome as a young girl, barely more than twelve, she had been fighting for her life. Her Dominus had admired her courage to stand against and kill full grown men and had purchased her, sparing her life. She was the only gladiatrix left within Rome. All the others had fallen. She had been the youngest and the smallest of fifteen, but she was the best. She was the last. She was alone. The sounds of gates opening brought her from her thoughts and she looked up to see Roman guards entering the arena. It had been decided by the "noble" Romans in the pulvinus, -the Magistrate, the Aedile, several Lanistas- that the guards should intervene. Had the pair below continued to fight, there would be no need for the guards, but they had stopped and began talking. This would not be tolerated. The crowd demanded blood...And they would have it. Godric watched as the Romans advanced, eyeing them with pure disgust. "Make your decision, little warrior. For there is little time."

The girl too was watching the guards, growing more and more nervous as they neared. She knew what became of slaves who disobeyed, but she also knew she could not defeat the powerful boy before her, and that too, would mean her death. Unless she agreed to go with him. To walk with him through the night, as he had put it. "Yes. I will go with you. I will accompany death through the darkness."

The boy's eyes brightened and a smile appeared on his face before he was gone, blurring around the arena to tear the throats out of many Roman guards. He was so preoccupied that he did not see three men approach his future companion, who had only her shield to protect herself. She managed to reach a blade however, plucking it from the hand of a dead gladiator. Two of the Romans soon fall to the ground, but as she drives her sword into the chest of one, another strikes her with his shield, sending her crashing to the ground. The hit disorientates her and she was unable to move away as the guard raised his sword. But just as he brought it down to deliver the final blow, his body stilled. His sword and shield dropped from his hands, eyes looking down to see a hand protruding from his chest, something small and red clutched within it. Blood began to pour from his mouth as he realized just what it was.

It was his heart.

The man fell to the ground as Godric removed his hand, eyeing the Roman with pure hatred before tossing his heart aside. He was by the girl's side in an instant. "Come, we will leave the Romans to their games and go to the forest. One short rest within the ground and you will rise to walk eternally upon the earth and fear death no longer...For you shall become it, my little warrior."

And with that, they were gone.

**Author's Note:**

> So, hope everyone enjoyed! Let me know what you think :D


End file.
